On the night he was born, Dragons raged in the sky. Fire lit the expanse above the ground, bathing clouds in an orange glow. Roars that made teacups tremble sounded throughout the whole continent of Basi Haya. and in a tiny shack, forged of dry reeds and rotting wood, a child was born to a whore. A child whose cries were drowned out by the malevolent cries of the Dragons warring above.

"He is a healthy boy, Raco. You must be proud." The midwife said. An old woman whose back was arched, laden with the weight of time. She was the only midwife in the tiny village south of the Dragon belt bordering on the Rankf sea. The crows feet adorning her eyes and the deep farrows above her brow spoke not only of the number of oscillations she'd lived through, but also her skill when it came to the task she'd partook in since her youth, birthing.

Raco's eyes didn't leave her child. There, on a bed made of bull rawhide, with a small smear of blood beneath her, her eyes stayed glued on the child. A birth that had taken three hours, a toil that was a necessity in the face of nature. Blood and pain, she was familiar with both now. By Sin she was familiar. It had been the story of her life and now it seemed to be nearing its conclusion, the child in her arms was destined to carry her story forth. Yet, what glory would the son of a whore obtain?

Sweat dripped from her brow, stinging her eyes. She blinked the discomfort away. His cries were endless, yet they caressed her soul, intertwined with her own silent cries. "Hush little one." She said and cradled him tighter to her bosom, the baby became lax in its wails, ceasing in its restlessness brought about by his first breath. It was as if the child knew what life was and Raco could hear his objection to the necessary toil a life led in order to sustain itself. But his limbs were so small and the way he waved them about, as if to rage against his own existence was awfully cute. Raco tickled the child's tummy with her index finger, the child, not knowing laughter, proceeded to thrash about. Raco smiled at the child. Bright flashes of light from outside aided the torch light within the shack and she was able to take in the child's rich green skin that was yet to become a pallid green grey as her own was. Yes, the green skin marked him as one of her race, the Rad es Maalas, and his eyes, yellow in their intensity, peered up at her. She felt a kinship with him, a camaraderie of sorts that comes into being with the creation of new life. She would do anything for him. She would charge the Dragons that warred above and bring their endless song of fire and brimstone to a frozen halt.

"They say the Queen of the East is delivering a child tonight as well." The old woman said.

"The business of royalty is not my concern." Raco answered.

"They say the child will be marked for Sin, just as yours is."

"That is absurd!"

"The Dragons do not lie, their fire that lights the sky is not one of anguish, but of jubilation. The Queen's child is marked for greatness." The old hag said. "Do you know the father?" She asked, pointing a crooked finger at the child in Raco's arms. Silence met her question. "Knowing your profession of Sin, the child must be nameless for there is no male to claim him."

Profession of Sin. Yes, that was the short take on her life. In Basi Haya, Sin was frowned upon. Seen as the reason behind their banishment from a land across the Rankf sea. A land they longed to return to, a land without Dragons, the henchmen of Sin. It is Sin that led the Queen of the East and the King of the West to form the Purge Accords. A period when Sin was purged from the Rad es Maalas so as to appease the Dragons and calm their rage.

Tonight, the dragons raged, seeking their penance that was a long time coming. A roar sounded from above and the baby renewed its cries with vigor.

"Don't be frightened little one, their cries are of anguish and not strength, when the moon is full so is their pain full as well. They have to release it and fire is the result of this." She raised herself off the bed, holding the baby to her chest.

"Where are you going?" The old woman asked.

"I want him to see." Raco said as she passed her on the way to the door.

"Are you mad? The bastard might die and —" Her words were lost to Raco. She exited the shack with the babe in her arms.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Raco was greeted to something out of a fever dream. The shack was a solitary dwelling, paces away from the rest of the village. The night was bright with the full moon upon the sky and the fire that lit the clouds from the circling dragons above forged a covalence of hues so radiant in their beauty, that her lips parted in awe. The old hag kept calling to her, beckoning her to return to the shelter of her abode. But she turned a deaf ear. Her feet shuffled, dragging her forward, one step at a time, away from the old woman, away from the shack. Towards the Dragon's discern. The place where you are in the Dragon's mercy.

The baby's cries couldn't be heard, the very earth trembled before the onslaught raging above. The Dragons. Large winged creatures. Their hide was forged of scales that couldn't be penetrated. The scales overlapped, sheathing the creature in armor. They had large serrated teeth, the size of a grown man's arm. No man has ever killed a Dragon. But the Dragons have claimed the lives of many men. Mostly fools who were in the open when their bloodlust ruled the sky. Fools like her.

Raco turned her gaze away from the sky, she peered into her son's eyes. Seeing the blaze, dancing along his yellow irises. "We are little things, little one," she said. "There are things that will be stronger than you, and there are those that will be weaker. This is what defines a man's place in the realm, may your strength be a sharp contrast to your weakness."

Raco took delight in her son's silence, his cries had dwindled to a dying stream. The only sound was that of the Dragons above. She moved to speak some more, thinking her words were somehow reaching her son, as if by a link that tied their souls together. Then she decided against it, she just held him up to the sky by his arms, the thin blanket afforded to her by the midwife, dangled from the child.

After a span of moments, she made as if to return to the shack, satisfied with her daring attempt to give her son a view of a sky lit by Dragons. But a growl behind her held her in place. She turned, slowly, to come eye to eye with a Dragon. It had descended from the sky, silently, it had crawled and slithered upon the ground until it was five paces away from her. How a creature as large as it could move without a sound left her quite bewildered. Large claws dug into the ground as the creature inched closer. She couldn't tell the hue of its scales by moonlight alone, but it was rich in its darkness. Its head, the size of a cart, meandered with the aid of its long neck, and its arms that held protruding wings conjoined to the flank of its midriff, stuck free of the creature by its elbows, climbing high into the sky, the length of ten grown men perched one upon the other. The creature opened its maw and the width of its jaw stood the length of her entire body.

Raco was made witness to rows of large serrated teeth, fit to dismember a man limb from limb. I will be purged of sin. She thought, the words passed down from her forefathers who'd stood before Dragons. All of the Rad es Maalas have ancestors who've met their death before Dragons. It was a customary act in the past. It is said that if a man stood before a Dragon and didn't meet his end through being birthed in flame, then that man was the champion of Sin and could tame the Dragons. The belief was later made obsolete, as the death toll climbed towards overwhelming numbers, extinction threatened them. No man has lived while within the Dragon's discern. The same place she currently stood. Before the eyes of a Dragon.

The babe in her arms, twisted, turned and faced the Dragon. The child raised his small, pudgy arms towards the Dragon. Then gave what only Raco could interpret as a child's laugh. A sound forged of obliviousness to the seriousness of matters. A pleasure in not knowing the ways of things.

The Dragon's mouth abruptly closed. Then the creature stood still, its eyes trained on them. The child cried out, raising his arms and waving at the beast before him. And Raco trembled as the Dragon gave an answering growl. The child cried out again, lifting his small fingers. The Dragon inched forward and its snout touched the child's outstretched arms.

Silence engulfed Raco where she stood. The babe trembled within her arms, she felt faint with dread. Yet, nothing was happening. The dragon and the child were locked in a silent contest, one willing their soul to overcome the other's spirit. She didn't know how she understood what was happening. All she could see was a Dragon being tamed. Somehow her child...

The Dragon edged back, suddenly. It opened its mouth with its face turned towards the sky and gave out a manic roar that had Raco stumbling back to land on her behind. The babe still in her arms, cried out with glee, as if seeking to match the Dragon's roar. Suddenly, the Dragon's midriff glowed. A flame coalescing, it climbed the length of its neck and when it reached its mouth, the flames poured out of the Dragon, shooting into the sky in a fierce orange jet of heat.

The Dragon flapped its arms, gaining momentum, the wind from the beating wings tagged at Raco's dark hair. The heat from the Dragon threatened to scorch her skin, yet the child in her arms cried out, his mouth spread out in a large toothless smile. The child's eyes!  Raco exclaimed. The irises weren't yellow as hers were — as it was for all the Rad es Maalas. Neither were they round. The eyes! They were vertical slits, dark as a Dragon's.

The Dragon climbed into the sky, rising higher and higher. Becoming smaller as it drifted ever further into the large abyss above. Raco got off the ground and turned her face to her son, she held him some length from her body, as if frightened of something. Then brushing away the absurdity of a mother fearing her spawn, she brought him closer until their faces were inches apart. His eyes have changed. The vertical slits peering up at her were a testament of this.

Suddenly, the shack door opened and out came a trembling old woman, her face trailing streams of tears. She raised her trembling limbs to the sky and cried out. "Sijalad!" Meaning: Champion of sin.

Raco stared at the old woman as she inched closer, crying the same name over and over. She'd been a witness to what had just occurred, so it wasn't a dream or a malady brought about by birth. What the old woman had seen had definitely happened, it wasn't a figment of her imagination, a weary mind brought about by the perils of birth. No, they had stood before a Dragon and lived. And her son. Her dear infant child, was changed by it. "Sijalad!" The old woman knelt down before her, and raised her voice in the ancient worship of Sin. Raco's eyes turned to her son, his lids were closed, the child was fast asleep. She touched his pudgy hand with one finger, prying it open, then she rested her finger within her son's embrace. Abruptly, the baby's fingers curled around her finger, tightening with quite the grip for an infant.

"I will name him Kaza." Raco said. The word meant, To tighten. The child was destined to have a grip on the impossible. As Kaza had proved that night.

"Kaza Sijalad!" The old woman cried out.

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